Drug Bust
by WhyAreAllThePenNamesTaken
Summary: Episode fic, the team investigates a drug ring after a sailor ODs. Drugs, dirty cops and a firefight, just another day at OSP. Rated T for language.
1. Teaser

The music was pounding. Marcus Leight was doing his best to stay as close to Dany as he possibly could without it seeming like he was dry humping her. Everything was sparkly and Dany's skin felt like silk, which probably meant that the pills she'd given them were working.

Suddenly a man slammed into Marcus and he, the man, and Dany all went down in a tangle of limbs.

"Hey man, get off me." Instead of obliging the man started to shake. Marcus shoved the man off him and tried to get a look at the man. The tingling was making it hard to think and he would have really appreciated it if bright lights would go away. Suddenly the man let out a groan and went rigid. Marcus tried to remember the first aid training he'd gotten in basic. He looked at one of the people who had gathered around "call an ambulance." He realised who it was that was dying on the club's sticky floor. It was Jacob Ortega, his best friend and Dany's brother.


	2. The Target

** Blue dogs rock: This. Enjoy and thanks.**

Any day without a case at OSP was a day for paperwork. Paperwork on a Monday was without question Marty Deeks' least favourite thing. On the bright side it did allow him the chance to steal the occasional glance at Kensi Blye, his partner and best friend.

It had been six months since the Siderov case. He hadn't had a nightmare in eight weeks – except for the one about Hetty but that wasn't unusual. He supposed that meant he was unmessed up. Which meant it was time to have The Talk with Kensi.

"Who's turn it is for lunch?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Yours" answered all three of them immediately.

"Chinese it is," turning his glance to Callen.

Before Callen could rise to the bait, Deeks' phone rang. It was Bates.

Deeks, are you busy?

"Just paperwork, why?"

"I want to meet with your team, and not at the precinct."

"One sec," he turned to the others. "Bates has a case for us."

"Yes" said Callen instantly. Kensi and Sam quickly voiced their agreement. Hetty was in DC for some meeting, though it was a fair bet that that ninja knew Bates was going to call before he'd known himself.

"We'll meet you at the boatshed in half an hour."

"Where?"

"Oh," of course Bates had never actually been to the Boatshed before. Deeks gave him the address.

* * *

Half an hour later, the team and Bates were sitting on the couches sharing Chinese.

"What's the occasion? asked Bates.

"Alleviating Mondays," answered Callen.

"you know MSG is bad for you, right?"

"Almost as bad as Mondays."

"What's the case?" asked Sam.

Bates wiped his hands and face on a napkin and opened the file in front of him. "The target is James Ritter. He sells ecstasy under the brand name Red Magic, to clubs in LA and southern Cali. His success is mostly based on the higher than average levels of MDMA in the pills, and he now supplies the majority of the ecstasy pills in LA."

"Why isn't LAPD handling the case?" asked Kensi

"Officially, because Petty Officer Jacob Ortega ODed on Red Magic on Saturday night."

"And unofficially? Asked Deeks.

Ritter is careful, he only deals with those who come recommended, and even then he checks them out with his rat in LAPD." Bates almost spat the last part. "The last time we tried to get an undercover detective to do a buy, Ritter took his picture and then talked to Bernhart for ten minutes, got a call and wished him a good day. By his real name."

"Ah." Which was something of an understatement; due to the lack of violence involved in the ecstasy trade, local LEOs did almost all of the investigations into ecstasy dealing. A dirty cop in narcotics or personnel meant that Ritter was all but untouchable.

"Any leads?" asked Callen

"The Starlit Club where Ortega nearly died is served by one Pedro Hernandez, in addition to his work in the club he sells to a number of other dealers. You might want to start there."

"All right" said Callen. "Kensi, Deeks, you two take Hernandez. Sam and I will read over these files and prep for undercover."

"On it."


	3. The Buys

The laundry was not the smoothest operation in the history of everything. While it seemed to have plenty of legitimate customers, every so often someone would go in and come out a few minutes later with their laundry bag just as full as when they walked in. Kensi and Deeks got plenty of pictures.

Finally, Kensi had an idea. "Eric, I need you to run a picture through the DMV, I'm sending it to you now.

"Got it."

Kensi ended the call. She couldn't help but notice that her partner had been eerily quiet for the past three hours. He'd given only the briefest of replies to her questions and there'd been no banter. She was actually starting to wor–

"I wonder if Eric and Nell are dating." Her partner said, completely out of the blue.

"What?"

"Well, they get along, he's crazy about her, she kissed him –"

"When?" God she needed to come up with something to say that wasn't a question.

"Last Christmas, there was mistletoe involved; Eric was very confused at the time. I'm just saying, if they're not going out they should be."

Kensi just looked at him. If Deeks was trying to say something beyond what he was actually saying, then his communication skills remained terrible.

"I know." He looked at the window, at his shoes, everywhere but her. Finally he shook his head and looked her straight in the eye. "We should talk, about the kiss and other stuff."

Kensi let out a breath, "after the case is over?"

"Sounds good, I'll bring beer and burgers."

As if on cue, Eric called back "Guy's name is Travis Taylor, no criminal record."

"Thanks Eric."

She turned to Deeks "Go inside the store and fiddle with one of the machines. I'll follow you in a few minutes.

* * *

A few minutes later, Kensi walked into the Laundromat. She looked around before heading towards the back. Sure enough Pedro was inside the small office there. Pedro looked up as she walked in the door, "what can he help you with?"

Kensi allowed a smile to play across her lips before turning on the charm. I work at this place on Holliwell – The Blue Room. I want something that'll shall we say … help people liven up the party. My friend Travis said you might be able to help with that." She knew there could be some password, but given that the dealers who walked in and out of here weren't exactly pros, she figured there wasn't.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Pedro said "The Red Magic's 2000 bucks for a pack of a hundred."

"Travis said they'd be high"

"They're worth every penny"

"I'll take two."

"You got the cash, 'cause I don't do consignment."

Kensi put a brown paper bag down on the table, Pedro pulled out two plastic packs from under his desk. They both picked up their respective gains. Kensi found two hundred red pills. Pedro found two sets of credentials and an LAPD badge. He looked up, defeat in his eyes to see Kensi's smile as her partner walked through the office door.

* * *

"Listen Pedro, you got two choices, you either do ten years in jail or you help us, what's it going to be?

"Pedro, do the smart thing here and you benefit, or you can do the stupid thing and go to jail, there's not third choice here man."

They'd been working Hernandez for an hour in the boat-shed interrogation room, cajoling, reasoning, vaguely threatening. They were running out of options. Finally Kensi gave Deeks a meaningful look, and he turned on Hernandez.

"Alright, lets wrap this up, I'm not going to waste my time trying to help a guy who doesn't want to help himself." Whatever else they were, at least their communication on the job still worked.

Kensi started to walk towards the door "you're right, the next guy won't be as stupid."

Credit where it was due, they were nearly out the door before Pedro broke. "Alright."

It was all the pair could do not to smile.

* * *

**A/N:** **Please review, I'm never really knew this before, but they are like addictive candy.**


	4. Game Day

It turned out that James Ritter ran his business out of a restaurant located on Ocean Front Walk in Venice Beach. The lunch rush had passed, the dinner rush hadn't started. Callen, Sam and Pedro were sitting in a Ford Shelby on Rose Ave. Kensi and Deeks were in the SRX a few cars back, and Eric and Nell were in Ops with LAPD on speed dial. Ritter wasn't known to be a violent guy, but there was no harm in being thorough.

The three men got out to the car and walked into the restaurant. At the back was a raised platform, where Ritter was seated. Set off to one side were a set of ledgers, but right now, Ritter's attention was focused on a woman not much older than 25, strawberry hair down in waves, wearing a pink sun dress with a low cut neckline. As they approached Ritter made a joke and the girl let out a high giggle.

Ritter looked up as Pedro, Callen and Sam approached. "Pedro, why are you here?"

"You know, thought I'd drop by, talk about the Lakers."

"Well, first off we're not friends; secondly I hate basketball; so returning to my original question, why are you here?"

"These are the guys I talked to you about." The phone call had just been a request for a meeting, though apparently they'd come at a bad time.

"Oh, right, and you are?" He said, looking at Callen.

"Well, I'm the bodyguard"

"And you are? Ritter inquired of Sam, looking just a little flustered. The girl, who Ritter still hadn't introduced, giggled.

"Damien Price, I own a club in Central LA. I'm looking for something to spice things up, I hear you're the man to talk to."

Ritter held up a hand "Not yet." He pulled out his phone and took pictures of Callen and Sam. "Can't be too careful." He tapped a few buttons on the phone before looking up again.

"So, what's this club you own?"

"The Blue Room, on Potomac. It's just opened up."

"I know it, nice lighting, DJ's not too bad, cover's probably too high though," put in the nameless girl.

Callen "I never got your name?"

"Sarah, Sarah Davis."

"You know clubs, do you?"

"I've been known to spend my time in one or two."

Ritter got a text on his cell. He checked it and then looked at Sam.

"Okay, well enough chitchat, let's go in the back and talk business." He shifted his gaze to Sarah. "Babe, why don't you get a drink, and I'll be back to take care of you in a moment."

"I would, but I have to get back to work, the boss is a bit of a stickler, but I'll see you tonight."

"You're not sticking around?" Callen asked, even though he was more than happy not to have any more complications than were necessary, he felt there was something weird about the girl.

Sarah rose and walked around the table before putting her hand on Callen's shoulder. "Honey, you cannot lose if you do not play." With that she headed for the door. All four men watched her go.

"What does she do for a living?" Callen asked of Ritter.

"Works at a nail salon or something."

"Hmm"

"So." said Pedro

"Yeah," agreed Ritter, and he led the others into the kitchen. He stopped in front of the walk-in freezer. "Hands up." The three men complied and Ritter gave them a thorough checking over.

"Enjoying yourself, there pal" asked Sam, playing the loose club owner rather than the tightly wound SEAL he was. Ritter's check would have been enough for LAPD mikes but Hetty had given Callen and Sam microphones and cameras in place of buttons on their jackets.

Ritter led the way inside. "Why am I meeting them?"

"I've been supplying them for a few months but they need more than I can give them."

"How much?" Ritter asked, turning to Sam.

"We do about a thousand pills a week."

"I only do monthly shipments, and its 15k per thousand, which is not negotiable considering you just cock blocked me."

"It's not my fault you're not good enough to make her stay." Sam said, affecting a tone somewhere between flippant and insulting.

Ritter bristled, but soon had himself under control "Well now its 20k for a thousand. Half now, half on delivery. My guy will drop it at the Blue Room."

"And how do I know you won't screw me?"

"I'm in the business of repeat customers, do I look like a moron or do you just want to give me more money?"

Sam raised his hands, palms out. Then he nodded to Callen, who opened a briefcase and pulled out $40,000 in $100 bills bound in stacks with rubber bands. Ritter shifted the stacks from hand to hand for a moment before putting them in a briefcase that was sitting on one of the shelves.

"Aren't you going to count it?" Callen asked.

"I just did." Ritter answered.

"Pleasure doing business with you Mr Price." He reached out and shook hands with Sam. "Now let's get out of here before our toes fall off, alright."

The four men walked back out into the restaurant. Ritter took a seat at his table and pulled out his ledgers. Callen, Sam, and Pedro walked out into the street. They stopped at the corner of Rose and Ocean Walk.

"Fellas," said Pedro and he walked off down the street a free, albeit newly unemployed, man. Callen and Sam walked across to the Shelby.

"Did you really have to insult the guy Sam?"

"Have you ever met a polite bar owner G?"

"True." They both got into the car and Callen switched on the phone. "Talk to me Eric."

"Two cell calls outgoing from Ritter's restaurant, one to a burner in the vicinity of Parker Central, and one to a warehouse near the Port of Long Beach. In addition, Nell is banging out a warrant for Ritter's known bank accounts, the restaurant and the warehouse."

"Banging, something you want to tell us Eric?"

"Only that I looked at the security cam footage for the warehouse and there are no lookouts, and that Sarah Davis is not, strictly speaking, in your age bracket."

Callen ended the call. "He sound's defensive, don't you think?

"Twenty bucks says him and Nell are together."

"No bet."

* * *

**A/N: That took a while, hopefully the next couple of chapters will be up much quicker.**


	5. One Arrest

Part 4 – One Arrest

That night, Ritter's guy delivered 4,000 little red pills to The Blue Room and Sam gave them the money.

The next morning, Sam and Callen were sitting in the Challenger, outside the Long Beach warehouse owned by Ritter's front company, with a four-man tactical team waiting in an SUV up the block. Kensi and Deeks were waiting for Ritter's at his restaurant in Santa Monica.

Nell and Eric had worked through the night but other than the warehouse there wasn't any property in Ritter's name or through linked holding companies or their corporate officers. The warehouse was big enough that it could be used as a factory and a storage space and it seemed like the only option.

Callen's phone chirped. "Yah"

Deeks' voice came out of the speaker, "Ritter just showed."

"Take him."

Callen looked at Sam, "let's go."

Sam and Callen ran quickly over to the door, the tactical team following. One of the team members was carrying a ram and used it to smash open the door.

Sam went in first, Callen right behind him. The warehouse was largely empty, except for a man in a black jacket. Sam shouted: "Federal agents." The man drew a pistol and opened fire. Sam took cover behind some packing crates, Callen came up beside him. Two of the tactical team members were caught in the open but soon took cover behind some pillars and laid down covering fire. The other two were still at the door and had their line of sight blocked by the packing crates but they ran up to the other end of the line of packing crates.

"Wait," the guard shouted. "Did you guys say federal agents?"

"Yeah."

A gun was thrown out on the ground. "Sorry. I'm coming out."

All of the six federal agents kept their guns trained on the pillar the guard was using for cover. He walked out, hands raised. Sam and Callen ran up to handcuff him while the two agents at the pillar provided cover. The other two agents made a quick sweep of the offices and bathroom before declaring the warehouse clear.

Sam looked around, aside from a the packing crates that Sam had used for cover, a pair of filing cabinets and twelve of those plastic boxes filled with Red Magic, there was nothing here.

* * *

Ritter had sagged a little as Sam and Callen walked into the interrogation room. But he recovered quickly.

"Listen jackass, even if I wanted to testify against my supplier, and as a man who values his life, I surely do not, I couldn't give him up. He found me, which means he has a guy in some pighouse somewhere, which means he already knows I've been arrested."

"Does he have a name?"

"Mike Hunt." Ritter answered, enunciating the words carefully.

"That sounds made up." Sam observed.

"It does." Callen said.

"You two should be detectives." Ritter deadpanned.

"Well, if you can't give us that, at least give us your source in LAPD, it's not like he's going to be any good to you anymore.

Ritter acquiesced. He wrote a name and badge number on a piece of paper and flicked it back across the table at Callen, who left to inform Eric and Lieutenant Bates, who was watching the interrogation with Kensi and Deeks.

Sam decided to give Ritter one last push. "Listen, anything you say now can only help you. What does he look like?"

"He had blue hair and breasts. I'm not giving you anything. I like living."

"He'd kill you over ecstasy."

"That's what he said and I don't want to find out whether he's serious."

"Enjoy prison."

Sam walked out to join the others. Bates was talking on the phone to Internal Affairs, informing them of Ritter's statement so they could put the dirty cop under investigation.

When he ended the call, Bates tried to put a good spin on things. "On the bright side we pulled in half a million dollars in drugs and caught a dirty cop."

"On the downside, we have a dealer who won't talk and a guard who made more in a fortnight than I make in a month to sit in that warehouse and make sure nobody stole anything," put in Deeks.

"I'm in the business of sweeping leaves on a windy day, Detective. I've learned to expect ambiguous outcomes."

Deeks couldn't come up with a rejoinder to that. Frankly, neither could Sam.

"Well," Bates said, picking up a few reports he'd brought with him, "until next time." With that he went to get Ritter.

"Well, its five thirty, let's call it a day, we'll do paperwork in the morning." said Callen.

Kensi and Deeks walked out together, Deeks suggesting that they get beer and burgers as they walked out. Sam had been wondering of late when Deeks was just going to sack up and ask the girl out. Maybe he already had.

"You know," said Callen, "the Lakers game starts in a couple of hours. Your place?"

"Well, you don't have a TV so yeah," and the two men walked out of the boat shed.

* * *

A/N: So that took a long time, mainly because I had written the other chapters out in one go but stopped at this one because it was midnight, thinking I would still be on a roll later. Oh well, the next chapter - a stinger - has already been written, because [spoilers], so it'll be up in a minute.


	6. Cleaning Up

A couple of nights later, a man parked a Prius on the far side of the car park from a nondescript office building. He had silver at his temples, a salt and pepper beard, and blue-grey eyes. He pulled a .45 ACP Chief's Special out of the hidden compartment in the dash and then hopped out of the car. He stowed the pistol in his waistband beneath his black leather jacket and then walked towards the back door of the building, his head constantly swivelling. Satisfied of the absence of any watching eyes, he pulled out a key and opened the door. He climbed the stairs to the third of four floors, rather than taking the elevator, following the rules as he always did. He walked into a suite of offices, empty now of almost every occupant.

He found the women he was looking for. She had strawberry blonde hair that ran down her back and was wearing pants and a loose, crew neck silk shirt. There was a ledger open on the desk but she was turned away from it, looking out the window. The man reached inside his jacket.

"Sarah." He pulled out a copy of the LAPD report on the investigation into the activities of one James Ritter.

Sarah Davis turned and smiled, "Brendan." They were not a pair for emotional greetings and they'd known each other too long to sugar coat things.

"James's been arrested, but he's standing tall."

Sarah noticed the report. "I thought LAPD wasn't involved."

"Apparently, one of the feds is just a liaison, so LAPD still gets copies. Our tame cop came through."

Sarah took the report and began to flick through it. "Do they mention me?"

"Only in passing, apparently they didn't think you would provide much help to the investigation."

"People see what they want to."

"Speaking of which, what in the name of all things good and sacred possessed you to screw one of our wholesalers?"

"I didn't know he was a dealer until he all but kicked me out of the restaurant to do business and even then I didn't know he worked for us. That's the way we set it up. I don't know the dealers. I don't want to know the dealers. Remember."

Brendan nodded and then looked up as if realising something, "wait, he never told you what he did for a living."

Sarah allowed a smile to play across her lips, "I never said he didn't tell me; just that I didn't know."

"We're nothing but pieces of meat to you, aren't we?"

She shrugged, and changed subjects. "What's the damage?"

"James had most of this month's shipment for southern California in hand when it went down. A lot of our accounts aren't going to get what they paid for."

"Get with his lawyer; tell James he gets his hazard pay when he gives us a list of his accounts. Then have his replacement get with them and tell them they're going to get this month's shipment a few days late but we'll give them 20% off next time. I'll make another batch tomorrow."

"They'd probably be happy with just delivery."

"Repeat customers, better we take the small hit now and keep them happy, than the big one later."

"I wouldn't call 200k for a new batch and another 200k for the haircut a small hit."

"Compared to 10 million a month nationwide, it is"

Brendan made a non-committal noise and changed topics. "The cops had a source, Pedro something, apparently he's cooperating. You want to do something about him?"

Sarah flicked a page and found the name, "Hernandez. Does he know anything that could hurt us?"

"Nah, he was just one of James' accounts."

"Then let's not make any more mess than we have to."

"Ok."

Sarah got up and opened the bottle of bourbon that sat on a sideboard, raised the bottle in Brendan's direction. He nodded and she poured two glasses. She handed one to her uncle and number two. They both drank deeply.

Brendan smiled. "I just can't get over the fact that they fell for that airhead act of yours."

Sarah smiled. "Well I guess it's like The Bunk said, 'the bigger the lie, the more they believe."

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, that happened. This story began life with this chapter, just because I wanted an NCIS:LA story that didn't end with the bad guy in jail or dead and thought it would be cool for the team to meet the Big Bad and not have a clue, though fans of The Wire may have noticed the hint that Sarah was not all she seemed. I have vague plans in my head about a sequel, where the team will meet Sarah again. Until then, thanks for reading.**


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